How to cite this article: Joshua N. Tilton, “Wise Men or Stooges: Who Were Matthew’s Magi?” Jerusalem Perspective (2025) [https://www.jerusalemperspective.com/31038/].
Questions about the magi in Matthew’s Gospel can be answered from a variety of perspectives. Astronomers might attempt to identify the phenomenon the magi observed in the heavens. Historians of religion might attempt to identify the religious or philosophical ideas the magi contemplated. Geographers might attempt to identify the routes by which the magi traveled to Bethlehem and by which they returned from whence they came. Such investigations, however, must rely on the basic historicity of Matthew’s account of the magi.
But what if the motives behind Matthew’s infancy narrative were not primarily historical but theological? What if the tale of the magi who venerated Jesus was not intended to convey historical facts about the birth of Jesus but theological truths about who Jesus was and what role he plays in God’s plan of redemption? In that case, correctly identifying who the magi were will not come from investigating astronomical phenomena or historical sources about magi in the ancient world or astrological treatises written by ancient authors. If Matthew’s infancy narrative is not history but narrative theology, then the key to discovering the magi’s identity will come from a literary investigation of the narrative function the magi play in Matthew’s Gospel.
Matthew’s Infancy Account: History or Narrative Theology?
What is narrative theology? It is the teaching of theological propositions through stories rather than philosophical arguments. Narrative theology is far more ancient and much more at home in ancient Judaism than systematic theology. The purpose of narrative theology is not to teach accurate historical facts, it is intended to teach about God’s character, his relationship to his creation (particularly to humankind and especially to Israel), his redemptive mission, and so forth. Another, more Hebraic, term for narrative theology is aggadah.
In Jewish aggadah we encounter all sorts of fanciful tales about the heroes and villians of Scripture that were not intended to teach historical facts, but were intended to impart spiritual or moral lessons. For instance, there are aggadic legends that Abraham was an innkeeper to teach the importance of hospitality. There are aggadic legends that Doeg the Edomite, who slew the priests at Nob, was a great Torah scholar to teach that knowledge is not the same as righteousness. There are tales about how Noah preached repentance to his generation prior to the great flood in order to teach that all God’s punishments were just. Such tales should be taken with a grain of salt. These pious legends were not based on historical facts, they were based upon theological reflection and the desire to teach moral and spiritual lessons.
During the Second Temple Period a popular method of doing narrative theology was to retell scriptural accounts with new or different details that expressed the author’s theological viewpoint. An ancient example of this method are the books of 1 and 2 Chronicles, which repeat much of the content of the books of Samuel and Kings but with a theological slant. Oftentimes, the author of Chronicles wanted to correct what he saw as a poor theological understanding expressed in the historical accounts of Samuel and Kings. For instance, in the story of David’s census the author of Samuel claimed that it was God who prompted David to take the census (2 Sam. 24:1). But in Chronicles we read that it was Satan who incited David to take the census against God’s will (1 Chr. 21:1). The difference between the two accounts is not because the author of Chronicles had more accurate historical sources than the author of Samuel. The difference is that the author of Chronicles was not doing history, he was doing narrative theology.
Other books of narrative theology from the Second Temple period include the Book of Jubilees and the Genesis Apocryphon, which retell parts of Genesis from a sectarian point of view, Joseph and Aseneth, which retells the story of Joseph in Egypt from a Hellenistic point of view, and the Biblical Antiquities (L.A.B.) of pseudo-Philo, which retells much of Israel’s scriptural history from a rabbinic point of view. Other books, such as 1 Enoch, contain sections of narrative theology together with apocalypses. Josephus’ Antiquities of the Jews also dabbles in narrative theology.
Our point here is that in the first century C.E., when the source(s) behind Matthew’s infancy narrative were written, narrative theology was considered to be a legitimate method of conveying theological information. Works of narrative theology were not historical, although they might be based on historical events or historical accounts, but their purpose was not to teach historical facts, their purpose was to teach theology and ethics, or written as apologies for particular points of view.
Are there any indications that Matthew’s infancy narrative is narrative theology rather than a historical account? There are. In the first instance, Matthew’s infancy narrative is explicitly apologetic. Punctuated throughout the infancy narrative (as also throughout the rest of Matthew’s Gospel) are statements that “this was to fulfill what was written in the prophet…” followed by a scriptural quotation (Matt. 1:22-23; 2:15, 17-18, 23). Clearly, the author of Matthew wanted his infancy narrative to teach the theological proposition that Jesus’ birth fulfilled the words of the prophets.
It is likely, however, that the fulfillment statements are a secondary layer placed on the infancy narrative by the author of Matthew himself.[1] For one thing, leaving the fulfillment statements out would do no harm to the logic of the narrative, a sign that they are not an organic part of the story.[2] For another thing, the fulfillment statements often don’t fit very well with the surrounding context. The quotation from Isa. 7:14 (Matt. 1:22-23), for example, in which the prophet predicts that the child born to the virgin will be called Immanuel, clashes with the angel’s instruction to name the baby Jesus (Matt. 1:21) and Joseph’s following this instruction once the baby is born (Matt. 1:25). It is likely that the author of Matthew interrupted the original flow of the infancy narrative in order to insert the fulfillment statement so that he could make the allusion to Isa. 7:14 explicit.[3] The reason for attributing the fulfillment statements to the author of Matthew himself is that they use the same formulae as the fulfillment statements that similarly punctuate the rest of Matthew’s Gospel, revealing the hand of the same editor.
If the fulfillment statements are secondary additions inserted by the author of Matthew, this must mean that Matthew’s infancy narrative is based upon an earlier source.[4] Was that source historical rather than narrative theology? On the one hand, some of the characters in Matthew’s infancy narrative are clearly historical. Jesus, Joseph and Mary were historical figures, known from other New Testament sources.[5] King Herod is also a historical figure known from the works of Josephus and other ancient historians as well as other places in the New Testament. So Matthew’s infancy narrative is not pure imagination, even if some might suspect it of being historical fiction.
On the other hand, each of the named historical figures in Matthew’s infancy narrative take on a persona that they do not quite exhibit in other sources, which gives Matthew’s infancy narrative a legendary character. For instance, in other sources Joseph is simply referred to as “the carpenter” (Matt. 13:55 ∥ Mark 6:3; cf. Luke 4:22). But in Matthew’s infancy narrative Joseph is portrayed as a dreamer who brings his family safely to Egypt, much like Joseph in Genesis, a dreamer and interpreter of dreams who brings Israel to Egypt so that his father and brothers will be safe from the seven-year famine.[6] Herod takes on the persona of another character in the Genesis story—Pharaoh, who needed his dreams to be interpreted. In Matthew’s infancy narrative Herod does not have a dream, but he is confronted with a sign, a star that foretells the birth of the King of the Jews. Like Pharaoh, who summoned Joseph to interpret his dreams, Herod summons the chief priests and scribes to search the Scriptures for an interpretation of the sign. Mary (Maria), who conceives a child by the Holy Spirit, is reminiscent of Miriam the prophetess, who spoke by the Holy Spirit at the Red Sea (Exod. 15:20) and, according to ancient Jewish sources, prior to Moses’ birth.[7] Herod, who devises a plan to kill all the male children in Bethlehem, reenacts the evil scheme of the Pharaoh in Exodus,[8] who issues the decree that all the male children born to the Hebrew slaves should be exterminated.[9] The parallels between Matthew’s infancy narrative and these scriptural accounts raise our suspicions that Matthew’s infancy narrative is not history but narrative theology. When we look to extra-canonical traditions about the stories of Moses’ birth, our grounds for suspecting that Matthew’s infancy narrative is doing narrative theology only increase.[10]
Matthew’s infancy narrative opens with Mary’s becoming pregnant with the future redeemer of Israel (Matt. 1:18) and Joseph’s considering whether to divorce Mary because he knows the child is not his (Matt. 1:19).[11] The theme of divorce also appears in aggadic legends about Moses’ birth. According to Jewish aggadah, Moses’ mother and father divorced one another in order to prevent having any more children because of Pharaoh’s decree that all the male children born to the Hebrew slaves should be killed. This aggadic legend explains why Exod. 2:1-2 states that “a man from the house of Levi took Levi’s daughter [to wife], and the woman conceived and bore a son [i.e., Moses],” as though Moses was their firstborn child, even though later we learn that Moses had an older sister and brother. The tradition that Moses’ mother and father were divorced is attested in the Babylonian Talmud (b. Sot. 12a)[12] and hinted at in the much earlier Biblical Antiquites of pseudo-Philo (L.A.B. 9:2-6). The theme of divorce in Matthew’s infancy narrative may be the earliest, albeit indirect, evidence of this ancient Jewish tradition.
In Matthew’s infancy narrative the redeemer of Israel’s birth is threatened by Joseph’s contemplation of divorce. Things would have been hard if Jesus had been born to a single, unwed mother. In the aggadic traditions about Moses, the divorce of Moses’ parents threatened to prevent the redeemer of Israel from being conceived. The parallel is not exact because Matthew’s infancy narrative was limited by its theological agenda (Jesus had to be born to a virgin) and certain undeniable facts of history. But the theme of divorce is not indispensable to the story of Jesus’ birth; it doesn’t appear in Luke’s account of the nativity. Whether or not Joseph’s contemplation of divorce is historically accurate cannot be assessed, but we can assess why the author of Matthew’s infancy narrative decided to include the divorce motif: it parallels the birth of Moses as it was known in Jewish tradition.
In Matthew’s infancy narrative Mary’s pregnancy is miraculous (Matt. 1:18). Apart from divine intervention it is impossible for a virgin to conceive. Ancient Jewish sources also regarded the conception of Moses, whose mother was the daughter of Levi (Exod. 2:1), to be miraculous. How could such an old woman become pregnant with the redeemer of Israel? According to tradition, when Moses’ father Amram took Yocheved back as his wife, her youth was restored so that she was able to conceive even though she was one hundred and thirty years old (b. Sot. 12a; Exod. Rab. 1:19).
In Matt. 1:20 it is a dream in which an angel of the Lord appears to him that convinces Joseph, after discovering that his betrothed was pregnant by someone other than himself, not to be afraid to take Mary as his wife, because what was conceived in her was from the Holy Spirit, and the child will be the savior of his people. According to Josephus (Ant. 2:210-216), Amram, when he learns that his wife has become pregnant, becomes so afraid that it takes a divinely inspired dream, in which it is revealed to him that the child to be born will be the promised deliverer, to give him courage.
Another parallel to the birth of Moses is the magi’s declaration that Jesus was born King of the Jews (Matt. 2:2). According to Philo (1st cent. C.E.), in the days of Moses Egypt had a problem: Pharaoh only had one child, his daughter, and she had no offspring. No one had been born heir to the kingdom of Egypt. When Pharaoh’s daughter adopted Moses as her son, Moses became Pharaoh’s heir apparent (Mos. 1:13). In Matthew’s infancy narrative Jesus outshines Moses. Moses was adopted as heir to the King of Egypt, but Jesus was born King of the Jews.
In Matt. 2:4-6 the chief priests (ἀρχιερεῖς [ar·chi·e·REIS]) and scribes (γραμματεῖς [gram·ma·TEIS]) in Jerusalem reveal to Herod the prophecy that the Messiah will be born in Bethlehem. Parallel to this detail, Josephus relates how a priestly scribe (ἱερογραμματεύς [hi·e·ro·gram·ma·TEVS]) in the court of Pharaoh prophesied to the King of Egypt that a redeemer would be born to Israel who would destroy the sovereignty of the Egyptians (Ant. 2:205). This prophecy is what inspired Pharaoh to order the extermination of the male infants born to the Hebrew slaves (Ant. 2:206). Similarly, it is the prophecy that the Messiah will be born in Bethlehem that motivated Herod’s Massacre of the Innocents (Matt. 2:16).
In Matt. 2:9 we read that the star which appeared at Jesus’ birth came to rest over the house where Jesus was to be found. According to aggadic traditions, when Moses was born, the house in which he was born was filled with light (b. Meg. 14a; b. Sot. 12a, 13a; Exod. Rab. 1:20, 22).[13] Again, the parallel is not exact. Matthew’s infancy narrative needed the light not only to reveal the place where the redeemer was born, but to guide the magi to the house. Hence, in Matthew’s infancy narrative the heavenly light is a movable star, not a stationary luminescence. Nevertheless, the star motif was likely influenced by traditions concerning Moses’ birth.
It appears, therefore, that the motivating force behind Matthew’s infancy narrative is not history but narrative theology.[14] By showing how key actors in the story (Joseph, Mary, Herod) repeated foundational stories in Israel’s past—how Israel came to Egypt, and how Israel was redeemed from slavery there—Matthew’s infancy narrative wanted to teach the theological message that Jesus was the new redeemer of Israel. Jesus was both like Moses and greater than Moses. Moses redeemed Israel from slavery in Egypt, but Jesus was bringing about the final redemption.
Outside Matthew’s infancy narrative the magi who venerated Jesus are unknown except in other infancy legends.[15] The lack of external evidence for the magi places a big question mark next to their name when it comes to their historical identity. But since in Matthew’s infancy narrative the personas of Joseph and Herod, and to a lesser extent of Mary, are governed by the stories of Joseph in Egypt and of Moses and Pharaoh, it is likely that the key to the magi’s identity lies not in the first century but in these scriptural stories and the legends that sprouted up around them.[16]
Magicians in the Hebrew Scriptures: Wise Men or Fools?
Although some New Testament translations refer to the magi as “wise men,” the Greek term Matthew uses is μάγος (MA·gos), which simply means “magician.” Philo, for instance, referred to the wicked Balaam as a μάγος.[17] There are three places in the Hebrew Scriptures that feature magicians: the story of Joseph in Egypt, the story of Moses’ confrontation with Pharaoh in Egypt, and the stories of Daniel in Babylon. As we have already seen, the earlier two stories are the backdrop against which Matthew’s infancy narrative is to be understood, but the role played by the magicians in Daniel is also informative.
In the story of Joseph in Egypt the magicians are the first ones who are summoned to interpret Pharaoh’s dreams: “[Pharaoh] called all the magicians of Egypt and all its sages, and Pharaoh recounted to them his dream, but there was none who could interpret them for Pharaoh” (Gen. 41:8; cf. Gen. 41:24). These unsuccessful magicians and sages are a foil for Joseph, who, with God’s help, easily interprets the meaning of Pharaoh’s double dream.
In the story of Joseph in Egypt the magicians are called חַרְטֻמֵּי מִצְרַיִם (ḥar·ṭū·MĒ mitz·RA·yim, “wizards of Egypt”) and are paired with חֲכָמִים (ḥa·chā·MIM, “sages,” “wise men”), but their function in the story is to demonstrate how the wisdom of the magicians was wanting. Despite their reputation as wise men, the magicians were incapable of interpreting Pharaoh’s not-so-subtle dreams. The wizards had pretensions of serving as the king’s vizier, but they ended up being little more than the court jester.
In the story of Moses’ confrontation with Pharaoh the magicians help to harden Pharaoh’s heart against the children of Israel by replicating the signs that Moses performed. Three times the wizards of Egypt succeed in producing a counterfeit miracle (Exod. 7:11, 22; 8:3), but the wizards could not produce gnats (Exod. 8:14) and were forced to confess that the signs Moses produced were no mere tricks, rather “This is the finger of God!” (Exod. 8:15). As in the story of Joseph, so in the story of Moses the wizards of Egypt (חַרְטֻמֵּי מִצְרַיִם) are grouped with “sages” or “wise men” (חֲכָמִים) (Exod. 7:11; cf. Gen. 41:8).[18] But just as in Genesis, the wizards in Exodus prove their wisdom is false. They incite Pharaoh against Moses and Israel and bring him into a losing contest with the one true God.
The magicians in Daniel are also lacking in cleverness. Each time they are mentioned they serve only as a foil for Daniel’s true wisdom. In the first instance, Daniel and his three companions prove themselves loyal to the Torah by abstaining from non-kosher meats. As a reward for their faithfulness God grants them wisdom: “As for these four men, God gave them knowledge and insight into all literature and wisdom, and Daniel had understanding of all visions and dreams” (Dan. 1:17). They proved to be ten times wiser than the wizards (חַרְטֻמִּים [ḥar·ṭū·MIM])—Josephus calls them μάγοι (MA·goi, “magi”)[19] —and enchanters in Nebuchadnezzar’s empire (Dan. 1:20). When Nebuchadnezzar was troubled by a dream, none of the wizards, enchanters, sorcerers or astrologers could define or interpret it (Dan. 2:2-11), but with God’s help Daniel could (Dan. 2:19). The same thing happens again in Daniel 4. Nebuchadnezzar has a dream, this time not of a statue with feet of clay (Dan. 2:31-35) but of a mighty spreading tree that is cut down (Dan. 4:7-14 [Eng.: 4:10-17]). Again the wizards are unable to interpret the dream (Dan. 4:4 [Eng.: 4:7]), but Daniel could (Dan. 4:16-24 [Eng.: 4:19-27]). Similarly, in Daniel 5 when the writing on the wall appears, the wizards cannot interpret the writing (Dan. 5:8), but Daniel succeeds (Dan. 5:17ff.).
Daniel’s portrait of the magicians is familiar, but it slightly expands our understanding of them. As in Genesis and Exodus, Daniel associates the wizards with “sages” or “wise men” (Dan. 2:27), but it also associates the wizards with astrologers (Dan. 2:2).[20] This is the first time in Scripture we hear that the wizards gazed at the stars.
The stories in Daniel about the failure of the magicians to interpret Nebuchadnezzar’s dreams or the writing on the wall parallel the failures of the magicians in the story of Joseph in Egypt to interpret the dreams of Pharaoh. Already in Daniel we are encountering narrative theology[21] that features magicians, and the role they play is clear—the magicians are purported to be wise, but are really fools. They claim to have insight, but God’s plans are hidden from their eyes.
The Egyptian Magicians in Later Jewish Traditions
In the book of Exodus the wizards of Egypt do not appear until Moses has returned from Midian after his encounter with the Lord in the burning bush. But in ancient aggadic traditions the wizards had been Moses’ nemesis since before his birth. Josephus relates how it was a certain priestly scribe (ἱερογραμματεύς [hi·e·ro·gram·ma·TEVS]) who foretold to Pharaoh that a redeemer would be born to Israel, instigating Pharaoh’s attempted genocide. Later, when Josephus recounts the counterfeit miracles of the magicians, he refers to the wizards not as magicians but as priests (ἱερεῖς [hi·e·REIS, “priests”]). Hence, the priestly scribe who plotted with Pharaoh against the infant Moses was just one of the priestly wizards who attempted to thwart Moses’ mission of redemption.
In rabbinic sources, too, we read about the wizards’ plotting against Moses even before Moses’ birth. According to the rabbinic sages, the wizards devised the plan to throw all the male children born to the Hebrews into the Nile because they had divined that Moses would be punished through water (b. Sot. 12b; Exod. Rab. 1:18, 24). The wizards’ plan failed because it was not the waters of the Nile that were destined to punish Moses but the waters of Merivah (Num. 20:13). The rabbinic legend once again highlights the foolishness of the magicians. They do not understand what they foresee or comprehend the oracles they utter.
Ancient Jewish sources also preserve a tradition that the wizards attempted to convince Pharaoh to kill Moses after he had been adopted by Pharaoh’s daughter. There are many versions of the story,[22] but the one that is most coherent is that while Pharaoh was holding the child Moses in his arms, he placed his crown on Moses’ head. The child Moses tossed the crown on the ground and stamped on it, which the magicians interpret as an omen that Moses is the one who will free the Hebrew slaves and bring an end to Egypt’s sovereignty, and they urge Pharaoh to kill the child Moses. Pharaoh’s daughter intervenes on her adopted son’s behalf, and the magicians propose a test to see whether Moses truly understood the import of his actions. They place before the child a heap of gold and a heap of glowing coals. They propose that if Moses reaches for the gold, this will prove his guilt, and the child should be killed. But if he reaches out for the burning coals, he is simply an ignorant child whose affront to Pharaoh’s dignity was innocent. The test is carried out, and the child Moses grasps a burning coal. To ease the pain in his hand, he puts it into his mouth along with the coal, which scorches his lips. The test exonerates the child and explains how Moses came to be slow of speech (Exod. 4:10). This story shows, among other things, what a central role the wizards of Egypt occupied in the traditions surrounding Moses’ infancy.
Revisiting Matthew’s Magi in Light of Aggadic Tradition
In light of the aggadic traditions we have surveyed, the portrait of the magi in Matthew’s infancy narrative becomes much clearer. We are not surprised to find that the magi were impressed by discovering a new star because from Daniel we know that wizards are associated with astrologers. We are also not surprised to learn that the magi do not really understand the significance of the sign in the heavens, for whereas they were searching for one who is born King of the Jews in Jerusalem, the scribes learned in Scripture know that the star must be pointing out the Messiah—Israel’s redeemer—who will be born in Bethlehem.
The foolish magi were looking for the wrong kind of king in the wrong place and, worst of all, they asked absolutely the wrong person. Nothing clinches the magi’s reputation for being bumbling idiots more tightly than asking the notoriously ruthless and paranoid King Herod where they might find he who is born King of the Jews. “King of the Jews” was Herod’s title, and he guarded it jealously.[23] Any threat to his throne, real or imagined, he snuffed out mercilessly. What did the foolish magi expect would happen when they asked Herod the Great where they could find his most serious challenger? The stupidity of the magi is further illustrated in their failure to perceive Herod’s duplicity and uncover his evil plot to kill Jesus. Although they were prevented from thwarting God’s redemptive purpose altogether, having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, still their total obliviousness leads directly to Herod’s bloody Massacre of the Innocents. Had it not been for the magi’s stupidity, not one of the boys in Bethlehem would have been murdered.[24]
But unlike the wizards of Egypt, who were hostile to Moses, the magi in Matthew’s infancy narrative were well-meaning. This is a surprising twist. The intention of the magi was to venerate Jesus and shower him with expensive gifts, not to subvert him. The magi are hardly wise men, but they are guileless. Another surprising twist is the way the magi serve as a foil for the leaders of Israel. Typically, the foolishness of the magicians is contrasted with the wisdom of Israel’s heroes. The wizards of Egypt could not interpret Pharaoh’s dreams, but Joseph the hero of Genesis could. The wizards in Nebuchadnezzar’s court could not interpret his dreams, but Daniel the loyal Jew could. In Matthew’s infancy narrative the chief priests and scribes are able to supplement the magi’s ignorance with correct information from the Scriptures, but their complete lack of interest in the birth of the Messiah, their own redeemer, is shocking.[25] The only person who is interested in the magi’s report that a king has been born to the Jews is Herod, and his interest is murderous. Herod’s murderous intent drives Jesus and his family to Egypt, another surprising twist, since we expect the redeemer of Israel to come forth from Egypt, not to flee there for refuge.
All these surprising twists in Matthew’s infancy narrative convey a theological message: at the time Jesus was born, Israel was in a sorry spiritual state. Its leaders were corrupt or indifferent, and safety was to be found in Egypt rather than in the Promised Land. The good intentions and unexpected correctness of the magi’s reading of the heavens are not so much a vindication of magicians and astrologers as a commentary on Israel’s unpreparedness to receive its Messiah, which helps to explain how Israel’s Messiah came to be crucified by the Romans and rejected by the majority of Jews.
Conclusion
Since Matthew’s infancy narrative is better characterized as narrative theology than history, the best way to understand Matthew’s magi is not through historical inquiry but through literary analysis. Matthew’s magi reprise the role of the wizards of Egypt in the Joseph and Moses narratives, but with a surprising twist. Matthew’s magi are not evil sorcerers, they are hapless but (mostly) harmless astrologers whose foolishness puts the wisdom of the scribes and chief priests in Jerusalem to shame.
- [1] Cf. Raymond E. Brown, The Birth of the Messiah: A Commentary on the Infancy Narratives in Matthew and Luke (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1979), 96-104; W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison, Jr., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel According to Saint Matthew (3 vols.; ICC; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988, 1991, 1997), 1:191. Luz suggested that Matthew’s source for the infancy narrative was an oral tradition, which the evangelist put into writing for the first time. The fulfillment quotations were the evangelist’s own contribution. See Ulrich Luz, Matthew: Hermeneia—A Critical and Historical Commentary on the Bible (3 vols.; trans. James E. Crouch [Das Evangelium nach Matthäus, 1985-2002]; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001, 2005, 2007), 1:90-91, 102-103. ↩
- [2] See Brown, The Birth of the Messiah, 100. ↩
- [3] Luke’s infancy narrative similarly alludes to Isa. 7:14 in Mary’s question, “How can this be, since I know not a man?” (Luke 1:34), the inference being that Mary is a virgin. ↩
- [4] Whence did the pre-Matthean infancy narrative originate? If I were to hazard a guess, the parallels to the story of Joseph in Egypt and Moses in Egypt and the portrayal of Egypt as a place of refuge for the holy family may hint that this story originated in the early Christian communities of Egypt. The author of Matthew probably adopted this infancy narrative because it portrays Jesus as a second Moses, a theme that was dear to the evangelist. Cf. Brown, The Birth of the Messiah, 112. ↩
- [5] Outside the infancy narrative Matthew mentions Mary (Mariam) in Matt. 13:55. Mark’s Gospel mentions Mary (Maria) in Mark 6:3. Luke’s Gospel mentions Mary (Mariam: Luke 1:27, 30, 34, 38, 39, 46, 56; 2:5, 16, 19, 34; Maria: Luke 1:41) and Joseph by name (Luke 1:27; 2:16; 3:23; 4:22), and Mary is mentioned once in Acts (Acts 1:14). John’s Gospel also mentions Joseph (John 1:45; 6:42). ↩
- [6] See Brown, The Birth of the Messiah, 111-112. ↩
- [7] See L.A.B. 9:9-10; Mechilta de-Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai 37:3 (on Exod. 15:20) (ed. Epstein-Melamed, 100); b. Meg. 14a; b. Sot. 12b; Exod. Rab. 1:22. ↩
- [8] See Brown, The Birth of the Messiah, 112; Daniel R. Schwartz, “Herod the Great: A Matter of Perspective,” in Herod the Great: The King’s Final Journey (eds. Silvia Rozenberg and David Mevorah; Jerusalem: The Israel Museum, 2013), 34-43, esp. 34, 39. ↩
- [9] Geza Vermes noted the possibility that the author of the Assumption of Moses compared Herod to Pharaoh: “And a wanton king, who will not be of a priestly family, will follow them. He will be a rash man and perverse, and he will judge them as they deserve…. He will impose judgments upon them as did the Egyptians…” (As. Mos. 6:2-3, 6). See Geza Vermes, The Nativity: History and Legend (New York: Penguin, 2006), 121. Translation according to J. Priest in Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (2 vols.; ed. James H. Charlesworth; New York: Doubleday, 1983), 1:930.
David Flusser once claimed that “it would not be difficult to show that this story [i.e., the Massacre of the Innocents—JNT] has a historical element to it.” See David Flusser, “Mary and Israel,” in Jaroslav Pelikan, David Flusser, and Justin Lang, Mary: Images of the Mother of Jesus in Jewish and Christian Perspective (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1986), 1-12, esp. 6. We wish he had done so. Perhaps Flusser meant that the Massacre of the Innocents is based on the violent clash that took place near Bethlehem when Herod fled Jerusalem to escape the Parthians. Jews from the surrounding area attacked Herod and his entourage in their flight, but Herod’s forces overwhelmed them with the result that the clash ended in mass fatalities. Herod escaped to Masada, where he secured his family in the fortress, and then made his way to Rome, where he was confirmed king and sent back to re-conquer his kingdom. Years later Herod built the Herodium at the site of the attack, which became Herod’s burial place when he died (Jos., J.W. 1:265; Ant. 14:359-360). Perhaps local resentments for the slaughter of Herod’s attackers near Bethlehem are reflected in the story of the Massacre of the Innocents. ↩
- [10] Avigdor Shinan and Yair Zakovitch, in their book From Gods to God: How the Bible Debunked, Suppressed, or Changed Ancient Myths and Legends (trans. Valerie Zakovitch; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2012), esp. 164-172, make a compelling case that the wondrous stories about Moses’ birth that are reflected in later traditions are more ancient than the account in Exodus itself. The writers of Exodus suppressed these well-known legends, but they nevertheless lived on in popular imagination. [See the review of From Gods to God on Jerusalem Perspective at this link: https://www.jerusalemperspective.com/30091/—JP] ↩
- [11] The theme of doubt concerning a hero’s paternity occurs in the Genesis Apocryphon with respect to Noah. Lamech, Noah’s father, initially accuses his wife of having been impregnated by one of the Watchers (1QapGen ar [1Q20] II, 1-18). ↩
- [12] And cf. Exod. Rab. 1:13. ↩
- [13] Although this tradition appears in a late source, there are good reasons for supposing that it is far older than the Babylonian Talmud. The Talmud (b. Sot. 12a) does not present this tradition as the innovation of an individual rabbi but as the view of the sages, indicating that the tradition about the light filling the house where Moses was born was an established tradition. Moreover, the appearance of light at the birth of important figures is common in ancient Jewish literature. See Louis Feldman, Legends of the Jews (2d ed.; trans. Henrietta Szold and Paul Radin; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2003 [1909-1938]), 1:134 n. 1. Light appearing at the birth of Jesus independent of the star of Bethlehem is reported in the Proto-Gospel of James 19:2. See Vermes, The Nativity, 106-107. ↩
- [14] Cf. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:192-193, 195. ↩
- [15] Cf., e.g., Prot. Jas. 21:1-4. ↩
- [16] Brown (The Birth of the Messiah, 117, 190-196) ascribed the magi-and-star episode to a source different from the rest of Matthew’s infancy narrative, partly on the grounds that the magi in Matthew are favorably disposed to Jesus, whereas in the Moses traditions the magi are decidedly hostile (The Birth of the Messiah, 115 n. 43). The magi episode also displaces what Brown thinks was originally a dream that revealed to Herod the birth of the Messiah, since dreams are prominent in all the other episodes of Matthew’s infancy narrative (The Birth of the Messiah, 114-115). Brown also supposed that the magi were inspired by the Balaam story and allusions to Isa. 60:6 and Ps. 72:10-11 (The Birth of the Messiah, 187), which to his mind makes the episode alien to the Moses in Egypt tradition. Cf. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 1:194-195. But in Jewish and early Christian tradition Balaam is hardly such a benign figure that he could better serve as the model of a Gentile magician favorably disposed toward Jesus than the wizards of Egypt. In some aggadic traditions Balaam is the magician who alerts Pharaoh to the coming birth of a redeemer of Israel and advises him to murder the male children born to the Hebrew slaves. See Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews, 470-471. Philo (Mos. 1:276) identified Balaam as a μάγος. So, Balaam need not be viewed as an alternative to the Egyptian wizards. For a critique of the view that the magi-and-star episode comes from a separate source, see Luz, Matthew, 1:103-104. As we will see as our discussion unfolds, the positive attitude of the magi to Jesus in one of several surprising twists in Matthew’s infancy narrative that are intended to teach a theological message. ↩
- [17] Philo, Mos. 1:276. ↩
- [18] In the Septuagint (LXX) the two terms are σοφισταί (so·fis·TAI, “wise men”) and ἐπαοιδοί (e·pa·oi·DOI, “enchanters”), but Philo (Mos. 1:94) calls them σοφισταί (“wise men”) and μάγοι (MA·goi, “magicians,” “magi”). ↩
- [19] See Jos., Ant. 10:195, 198, 199, 203. The noun μάγος also occurs in Dan. 2:2, 10 (LXX), but not as the translation of חַרְטֹם. ↩
- [20] The term Daniel uses is “Chaldean,” but in the time when Daniel was composed “Chaldean” was synonymous with “astrologer.” See Louis F. Hartman and Alexander A. Di Lella, The Book of Daniel (AB 23; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1978), 129, 138. Cf. Philo’s statement that it was from the Chaldeans that Moses learned “the science of the heavenly bodies” (Mos. 1:23). ↩
- [21] In the Jewish canon the book of Daniel is not included among the Prophets but among the Writings. ↩
- [22] See Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews, 482-485. The most ancient attestation appears in the writings of Josephus, where it is the same priestly scribe who foretold the birth of a redeemer who identifies the child Moses as that redeemer. Josephus relates that Pharaoh’s daughter intervened to save her adopted son, but does not report the trial that exonerated Moses (Ant. 2:233-236). Flusser believed Josephus abbreviated the original story, while later versions, like that in Exodus Rabbah 1:26, expanded it with angelic interventions. See David Flusser, “Palaea Historica: An Unknown Source of Biblical Legends,” Scripta Hierosolymitana 22 (1971): 48-79, esp. 63-67. ↩
- [23] Cf. Brown, The Birth of the Messiah, 170. ↩
- [24] Hence, I can hardly accept Brown’s assessment that Matthew’s magi are “wholly admirable” or that they “represent the best of pagan lore and religious perceptivity” (The Birth of the Messiah, 168). ↩
- [25] Cf. Brown, The Birth of the Messiah, 186. ↩
